


Redbull, Company, and Sleep

by kurobook



Category: Find Us Alive (Podcast)
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21778237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurobook/pseuds/kurobook
Summary: A short what-if from ep 00, on some things from Lancaster's perspective.
Relationships: Dr. Edmund Harley & Dr. Lancaster
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	Redbull, Company, and Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Radd, if you're reading this- *does some weird arm movements and points at you* - you're cool! Thank you and the crew!
> 
> And to everyone in the fandom in general, thanks! This fic can be read as ship or platonic, though I did write this as pre-ship.

"C'mon, down you go, onto the bed," Lancaster muttered to the man hanging off his shoulders. He stumbled when Harley dragged him down with him, landing next to him with a startled squawk. Lancaster tried to get up, but found his limbs weren't moving quite right.

Which made sense, since the only thing keeping him running at this point was probably the three (3) Redbulls he'd squirreled away for himself and downed frantically when he'd felt the first yawn bubble up. That must have been several hours ago.

After everyone had retreated to their rooms and hidey holes in the facility, he'd checked a couple of places in the building hoping to find Harley in a decent state of mind, before giving up and making his way to the Communications booth. (Of course Harley was there, it was basically his home.) Then they'd gotten lost twice on their way to Harley's dorm, and honestly, Lancaster had started feeling the exhaustion slip back in even before he'd went off in search of the drunken head of communications.

Lancaster blew a deep sigh into the blanket his face was buried in. He let out an odd noise like a cat when he was slowly dragged closer by Harley, squished snugly into a warm hug. Lancaster blinked, glasses askew, and judged that Harley was still out of it.

"Dude… I'm not a teddybear…" Lancaster griped regardless. As tired as he was, his brain was still making attempts at processing, and he chewed on his thoughts about this whole thing.

It'd been… probably 3 days since the start of the riots. From what he could tell, Harley had barricaded himself inside the office for… the entire time? Until it had quieted down and he'd snuck into the kitchens for a bottle of… vodka? If he remembered the bottle right.

3 days of radio silence. Of talking into an unresponsive void (and probably doing that silly radio host thing). Of being locked in a booth, alone, with no one and nothing but blinking lights and the muffled sounds of gunfire, yelling, and explosions.

Three days of solitude. He closed his eyes and let the thought sink in.

~~' _Skin h_ _unger, touch deprivation, touch starved.'_~~

' _He's not your patient,'_ Lancaster chided himself. He huffed a sigh that tickled Harley's neck and made him grumble, but didn't wake him. ' _Damn I'm tired…'_

Harley's arms were a warm and comfortable weight around him. His eyelids felt too heavy to open. Resignedly, he figured that the Redbull had probably worn off at this point.

' _I guess… I can… take… a…'_ Lancaster fell asleep before the thought finished, head still tucked under Harley's chin.


End file.
